Wedding Bells
by Lady Silvamord
Summary: (One-shot) The wedding of Princess Kalasin of Conté and Emperor Kaddar Iliniat.


Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**October 30, the year 462 H.E, the Imperial Palace of Carthak**

-

The crescent moon shone out over the land, bathing it in silver light. Scents of marigold and jasmine perfumed the warm night, blown about by the slight breeze. It was a night of celebration, the union of two nations, the long-awaited marriage of Emperor Kaddar Iliniat of Carthak and Princess Kalasin of Conte and Tortall. Spirits were high, to say the least. An alliance between the world's two most powerful realms was nothing to be laughed at. Years of diplomatic effort had finally paid off. There was perhaps only one person who was not celebrating.

Kalasin stared blindly at her reflection in the mirror of her tent, nervous hands clenching. Half an hour. Half an hour remained before she was a married woman. She set the mirror down sharply before rising. _There's nothing you can do about this, you know,_ a little voice nagged inside her. _In half an hour, you'll be the empress of Carthak. You'll watch your family and friends head back home, and you'll stay here, in this foreign land. _Kalasin choked back a sudden sob as she paced back and forth. Tears burned in her eyes like a scourge, threatening to rip away what little was left of her senses. Her legs trembled slightly and she sat back down.

Kalasin moved the handheld mirror back toward her. She saw a pale face framed by long black hair, bringing out her deep sapphire eyes. The fear, anxiety, even the tiny sliver of anger the eyes held were not reflected in the mirror; hidden instead by an ever-thinning mask of polite interest. The woman she saw in the mirror was a pawn in the international game of alliances. This time Kalasin didn't bother to hold back her tears. What was she doing here? She was nineteen, and she had her whole life ahead of her. She couldn't see an empress reflected in the mirror. Only a scared young woman. It was only when Kalasin noticed her trembling hands, did she put her mirror back down.

She moved toward the window, looking outside at the festivities. Hundreds of people, the nobility and scholars of Carthak, the Tortallan diplomats, her mother, father, brothers, and sister, and the rest of her adopted family had attended the wedding. Even a contingent of Tortallan knights had accompanied. For a few moments she stared outside hungrily.

A brisk knock sounded at Kalasin's tent. "Come in," she called; hoping that whoever it was wouldn't notice or mind the slight quiver in her voice.

Varice Kingsford entered the room and took in Kalasin's appearance in one glance. Varice had been tour guide and friend to the princess in the year they had known each other, the time that Kalasin had become acquainted with her betrothed. The older woman very much considered Kalasin her student in life, love, and appearance. Fitting, seeing as Varice was the head coordinator of all the Carthaki royal events.

"Now, what are you doing?" asked Varice gently, gliding over to Kalasin. "It doesn't do to cry right before one's wedding. Your eyes will be all red."

"I couldn't care less, Varice," she said tiredly, slipping into the more colloquial speech of the commoners.

Varice patted Kalasin's hand, while passing her a washcloth. "Wipe your face with this, and pass me the container of rouge. It isn't Kaddar, is it? Is he being so gods-cursed intimidating? If it is, I can tell my mother to set him in his place. She's his aunt, and that comes in useful."

Passing Varice the rouge, Kalasin continued. "It's not Kaddar. He's a good man; I knew that when I met him. It's just..."

"Yes?" prodded Varice.

"It's just that I don't know what being _married_ to him will be like. I turned into ice when I heard that I _would_ marry him. He's so much older than me—six years—and we've grown up in backgrounds so different it's like flame and ice, and—"Kalasin gulped for air—"and I don't know what I'm going to _do._ After this, Mum and Dad and Ro and Liam and Lianne and Jasson will go back to Tortall and leave me behind, alone. I couldn't imagine this ever happening—and it is."

Varice tightened Kalasin's dress, tying her scarf snug. "You won't be alone. I'll be here, if you ever need a friend. And Lord Zaimid should meet the lady of his dreams soon, and you'll have a friend in her as well. Now, how does this look?"

Kalasin gaped as she turned around, seeing her full reflection in the large mirror. She wore a dress of royal blue, lined in gold. Her underskirt was dark green, complemented by a scarf of that same color, both sparkling with golden threads. A veil of sheer amber covered her inky-black hair. Varice had rouged her cheeks expertly; hiding every trace that tears had ever stained her skin.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" asked Varice, eyeing the dress like it was her own child. "Understated yet majestic; not gaudy, but enough to boast of the Empire's wealth. And the veil's fabric is a mixture of silk and satin—just watch, as soon as you step outside there wearing it, all the ladies will be after it!"

"It is very pretty," murmured Kalasin, twirling around. For those few blessed moments, she felt normal. She was just back at home, listening to Lianne crow over her latest court regalia, and laughing as Roald teased her about all his year-mates falling over themselves for a dance with her. Kalasin had never been a flirter—she thought it was cruel to lead anybody on when she knew that she was destined for a life in a distant land. Those few blessed moments; she forgot that she was an ocean away from her home, preparing for her wedding.

It was the sound of the exotic Carthaki music that brought Kalasin back to reality with a bump. It all flooded back to her, and she stood stock-still for a second, swaying. "Varice," she whispered. "May I see my mother?"

Varice put a hand on Kalasin's shoulder sympathetically. "I'm sorry," she said gently. "Custom dictates that the bride cannot see any of her family—adopted or otherwise—until after the wedding."

Varice might have spoken more, but Kalasin heard no more. The roaring in her ears drowned out all other sound. Kalasin might have stood there for all of eternity, enjoying the comforting sound of silence, if three loud thumps had not rung through the air.

"That's your entrance," murmured Varice, giving the soon-to-be empress a hug. "Go."

* * *

Kalasin walked down the aisle steadily, keeping her eyes fixed up front; head held high. She was conscious of all the eyes fixed on her. The expressions on Jasson, Liam and Lianne's face were of pure admiration. The three youngest Contes had always looked up to their elder brother and sister. _Gods bless you, my sister and brothers dear,_ she thought. _I hope you feel as happy on your wedding day as you do on mine._ Roald looked both proud and heartbroken. The crown prince and princess royal had shared a special bond, and Kalasin knew that he would miss her desperately. With each member of her family she saw, Kalasin felt another piece of her heart breaking. Uncle Gary and Aunt Cyth smiled at her, though she could see the tears in their eyes.

The Tortallan knights stood at attention as the princess passed them. Kalasin recognized them as Roald's year-mates, as well as Keladry of Mindelan, who stood in the front row. The second lady knight gave Kalasin a slight nod and a smile. Feeling a tear sting the corner of her eye, Kalasin blinked.

She was almost at the altar now. Spotting her parents, she had to use all her self-control not to burst out crying right then and there. Tears flowed over Thayet's face as she sniffled and smiled for her oldest daughter. Her dad wasn't crying, but Kalasin could see the sorrow in his eyes as he beamed proudly at her.

This was it. Kalasin lifted a foot and stepped lightly onto the altar. Kaddar stood across from her, handsome in a calf-length crimson silk tunic and black breeches. He smiled slightly at her, and Kalasin was surprised to see a look of pride flash in his dark brown eyes.

The priestess standing to their side cleared her throat. As she began to utter the ancient rites in a voice as old as time itself, the hall fell silent. A breeze played across Kalasin's cheeks and face, mussing her veil slightly.

"...And do you take this man to be your husband, from this day forth, to the day of your death?"

"I do." As Kalasin spoke those two words, she felt herself crossing a line. She could only look ahead, not back. She had also come to a startling conclusion: she didn't regret it.

"I do." With those same words, Kaddar completed the rite.

The priestess shifted slightly and grinned at them. Her gray eyes crackled with mischief, as both Kalasin and Kaddar figured out who exactly the priestess was. In response to the emperor's thunderstruck gaze, she smiled wickedly. "Well, then? Do you really need me? You may kiss the bride."

Kalasin smiled up at him as Kaddar leaned close. He smoothed her veil back into place with kind hands before pressing his lips to hers gently. A chorus of cheers broke out as they pulled apart, and toasts were proposed to the newly wed emperor and empress of Carthak.

As soon as the noise died down a little, Kalasin looked for the priestess. In vain, it appeared. She had vanished.

"You should get used to seeing her here," Kaddar murmured in her ear as he led her out to the dance floor. "She seems to have taken an interest in us."

"Gods help us," joked Kalasin, and they both laughed.

During the celebration, and in the days and nights after, Kalasin Iliniat discovered something very important.

She could still smile.

* * *

Note: You have just read the product of half a day on the computer. Don't say it—I know I'm obsessed to the point of craziness! This is my second Kaddar/Kally fic, and I'm still working on the way they fit together. CC is accepted and valued! And, as always, thanks to my beta PsychoLioness13. You know, I'm getting tired of writing that down. I am going to enable a neon billboard that says "Thanks to my awesome beta, PsychoLioness13!" in all of my fics and chapters, just to save myself from finger strain. And, you know, the billboard would be prettier. –Flips billboard switch-

Thanks for reading! I really appreciate it.


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